Midnight Girl Part 8

She didn't think. She knew that blood is iron and power and life, that the world is rich with blood, that she should drink it all, that the body feeding her was young and strong and healthy. If its blood was like veal, would an adult's be like steak? She would find out.

The body of the blood tried to push her away. An annoying murmur came from far away. She wanted to ignore it, but she knew the words. "Cat? Stop. Cat! Stop. Time to stop, Cat. Stop it!"

She thought, Quiet! and the struggling ceased. Controlling the creature that fed her was easy. Controlling everything but her own desire was easy. Why should she want to control herself? Needs should be satisfied. Why should she care if a human-- A human called Tarika. Who thought it was wrong to kill animals for food. The human was wrong. The weak live to serve the strong. Cat was strongest of all. Who could strop her from drinking? Not a weak creature-- Not a human girl-- Not her best friend-- Not Tarika-- Not-- Cat jerked her mouth from Tarika's neck and cried, "Tee? Tee! Please, Tee!"

Tarika's eyes were closed. Hollywood had part of vampirism right: two dark dots marked her throat. But Hollywood never showed the bruised flesh around the marks, or how the trickling blood stopped flowing from them.

Tarika's chest wasn't moving. Had the bites stopped bleeding because her heart had stopped? Cat shook her. "Tee! Please! Come on, G.o.d, please--"

Tarika's eyes flickered. Cat said, "Tee?" Tarika smiled weakly. "I knew you could." Cat hugged her tight. "Oh, thank G.o.d, Tee!" "Vampires can say that?" "Guessing yes. How do you feel?" "Guessing weak. You?" "Strong. No guessing." Cat grabbed Tarika's handcuffs and pulled as hard as she could. But her fingers went limp, and her hands slipped free. Tarika said, "Not strong enough?" Cat grabbed the front door handle, thinking she would step out into the shade of the house, even if the Arkans saw her. And her hand slid off the door k.n.o.b. "Cat? What?" "I can't help. The rest of what he said still applies." "But you're not thirsty!"

She considered that. "No. I had enough." She knew why that didn't make her feel better. Tarika was safe from her now, but not from her mother, Baldomero, or the Arkans.

Tarika nodded. "Plan B." "Which is?" "The handcuff keys. You have to get them." "That's the helping I can't do." "The Arkans are outside, right? If they find me like this, what'll they think? No matter what I say, they'll search the house. But if I'm free, I can tell them you all left, and they'll believe me."

"You'd lie for us?"

"Does it matter? Aren't I right? To save your family, you have to take the chance, right?"

Cat heard the bees returning, but she whirled and ran through the house.

She didn't want to open the bas.e.m.e.nt door. She was sure her mother and Baldomero would be standing there, waiting for her. She told herself that Granny Lupe had always slept soundly, so she shouldn't worry about waking them.

But she worried. As Granny Lupe, her mother had slept in a place where she felt safe. Would she sleep lightly in a strange place? How soundly did Baldomero sleep?

The door opened silently, revealing her next worry: The windows were covered with cardboard and duct tape. She might have great night vision as a nighter, but in perfect darkness, she was still blind.

A flashlight hung from a nail by the light switch. She took it, then saw a dust rag on another nail. She wrapped it around the flashlight lens, pointed the lens at her feet, and turned it on. The dim light was enough to show her where she was about to step.

She kept it aimed down to keep from disturbing the sleepers. She took each step slowly and carefully, but each step sounded impossibly loud.

Then she thought, What if Mama and Baldomero lied about how many people they killed?The bas.e.m.e.nt could be full of their victims' corpses.

She wanted to run back. She should let Tarika call the police. Or Dad. Maybe he could stop the Arkans and the de la Sombras.

A board creaked underfoot. She froze. The bas.e.m.e.nt was cool and silent. She could hear a movement upstairs that must be Tarika in the hall. She could hear nothing in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Had Zoraida and Baldomero left without telling her?

She slowly raised the light. She saw an empty folding cot and fought the urge to gasp. Was one of them awake?

She moved the light around the room. Something dark lay on a sofa: Zoraida in her black dress.

Cat clamped a hand over her mouth and pointed the light down. She still saw her mother in her mind. Zoraida de la Sombra looked like Sleeping Beauty. Maybe it was natural for nighters to sleep deeply.

Cat moved the light toward the next dark shape. A ping-pong table. With a yoga mat. And Baldomero like a sleeping Prince Charming.

She couldn't step closer. The bees swarmed in full force. What she had done so far, she might have done on her own, looking for her bed after feeding. Anything more would be helping Tarika escape.

She thought, If the Arkans find Tarika handcuffed, they'll kill us all. Go away, bees! I'm saving Mama and Baldomero!

Her feet were freed so quickly that she fell toward Baldomero. She caught herself a few inches from his body and leaned back, almost sighing in relief.

Do it and get out, she thought. She made herself slip a hand into his nearest jacket pocket.

It was empty. What do nighters need to carry, besides the occasional handcuff key?

She reached across his body for the other pocket. It was almost like hugging him. She knew she should hate him, but he looked so handsome and gentle and helpless. Part of her wanted to hug him.

Until a hand like a steel claw grabbed her arm.

Chapter Nine.

The Uninvited.

Cat opened her mouth to scream, then clamped her lips firmly together. Baldomero tugged her close and whispered, "Mi corazon." The stubble of his jaw pressed against her cheek. His eyes stayed firmly shut.

She thought, If he wakes-- He whispered, "Kiss me." She froze. His hand tightened on her arm. He said, with a little doubt, "Mi amor?" What could she do? What should she do? She quickly kissed his cheek. He sighed, and smiled, and released her arm. Part of her was sad. Maybe his glamour worked while he slept.

Maybe hating him didn't affect her attraction to him. She thought, Not thinking about that!

She reached into his far pocket, found a small key, and backed quickly away. Neither sleeper stirred. She tiptoed upstairs, closed the door carefully, and ran into the front hall, waving the key.

Tarika whispered, "I knew you could!" "Best lie." "No lie." Tarika smiled, so Cat smiled back, thinking, That's the only kind of lie that friends tell each other.

She held out the key. "If the Arkans come, you'll say everything's fine?"

Tarika nodded.

Protecting my family, she thought, unlocking the cuffs. As Tarika stretched out straight and groaned, Cat glanced outside. The orange van had not moved. Cat said, "Better go out the back. They won't worry about nighters sneaking out in daylight."

"What about you?" "Still can't leave." "If I push you out?" "'Aargh, the sun?'" "We could put a blanket over you." "I don't trust anything that works on TV." "We've got to do something!"

"Yeah. You've got to go."

"I said I wouldn't!" "And get help." "From who?" Cat bit her lips. Why hadn't she realized how wonderful it was to know her father would help her, no matter what? Now he would think anything she said was a trick and try to kill her on sight.

She grabbed Tarika's hand and dragged her down the hall. "Just go. Soon as you're out, I'll wake Mama and Baldomero. They'll figure something."

"If they can't?" "That might be best." "You're not all I-vant-to-suck-your-blood! You're still Cat. You proved it!" "Okay, once you're out, tell Dad everything. He can't make things worse." Tarika paused at the back door. "Hating leaving you." "And your brill alternative is?" "Not. I'll call your dad." "Thanks, Tee." Tarika unlocked the door, glanced at Cat, and began to wave. And the door swung inward, knocking Tarika into Cat's arms. As Cat looked up, she saw Alexandra Arkan in the doorway, silhouetted by the sun.

Which bathed her in its light. Cat opened her mouth to yell, took a step back, and stopped. Sunlight felt like being near a hot stove, uncomfortably warm but not painful. Shouldn't it burn? Did Hollywood get vampires and daylight wrong?

Confused and half-blind, she lifted her hand to s.h.i.+eld her eyes. Ms. Arkan, in a gray leather blazer, dark green trousers, and low black shoes, was raising a bolt pistol in both hands. On her finger was a silver ring, a snake wrapped around a ruby.

Tarika kicked the door as Ms. Arkan fired. Cat saw the sharp wooden bolt, heard an explosion like a balloon bursting, saw the bolt would miss her, and let it careen down the hall, shattering paintings and gouging wallpaper until it slammed into a china cabinet with a crash louder than the sound of it firing.

Ms. Arkan shoved the door wide, pus.h.i.+ng Tarika back, sending her skittering across the tile floor, and whispered fiercely, "Shoot!"

Someone smaller was coming up beside her. Cat said, "Ilya?"

He had a bolt pistol aimed at her chest. The sun made his hair redder than she remembered. He wore his denim jacket, jeans, and black running shoes. They stood six feet apart. Could she dodge a bolt fired so close?

Keeping his pistol steady, he said, "Cat?" Ms. Arkan said, "It's only another nighter! Shoot!" Tarika screamed, "Sun!" Ilya squinted at Tarika, then at Cat. Ms. Arkan grabbed his pistol. "d.a.m.n it, Ilya!" "Sunlight!" Tarika yelled, pointing at Cat. Ilya's eyes opened wide. He hit his mother's wrist, knocking it against the door frame. The bolt pistol hit the floor and slid across the gleaming tiles.

Tarika s.n.a.t.c.hed it up, pointing it at the Arkans. Ms. Arkan said, "You don't know how to fire that." Tarika said, "So if I squeeze this trigger, nothing will happen?" Ms. Arkan said carefully, "You don't know the dangers here." Ilya turned to his mother. "Cat's in the sunlight! Couldn't you see?" Ms. Arkan shook her head. "You can't trust them." "I can't trust the sun?" Ms. Arkan jerked her head again. "It must be one of their mind tricks." "Even after our training?" "Never think you're completely safe from them!" Tarika pointed at Cat, who thought sunlight felt wonderful, but wondered if for nighters it was like nuclear radiation for humans, a slow and painful death.

Tarika said, "You can't kill everyone who's in sunlight because they might be secret vampires!"

Ms. Arkan said with a sneer, "We don't kill people." "You tried to kill Cat yesterday." "We couldn't risk her becoming what she is." Cat said, "Can nighters be in the sun?"

Ms Arkan glanced at her, then frowned. "I never thought so." Tarika said, "Call Professor Medianoche for a second opinion." Ms. Arkan shook her head. "If he were wise, this problem would've disappeared fourteen years ago." A noise behind Cat made her turn. Mr. and Mrs. Chang, in robes and pajamas, were peering down the hall. Mr. Chang waggled a baseball bat near his shoulder. Ms. Chang waved her cell and shouted, "Leave now! Or I call the police!"

Ms. Arkan squinted at them. "And why haven't you called already?"

Because they can't let anyone know who's in the bas.e.m.e.nt, Cat thought. Did the Arkans want the police involved? She shouted, "Call them! Now!" Without hesitating, Mrs. Chang began punching b.u.t.tons. Ms. Arkan said, "Wait! We'll deal." Cat said, "Don't call." As Mrs. Chang cleared the phone number, Cat realized her voice had been backed with glamour. She stared at Ms. Arkan, focused on the need to be obeyed, and said, "Go. Away. Now."

Ms. Arkan blinked. Then her eyes went wide. "What are you?" Too smart for my own good, she thought. "What do you mean?" "You play their mind tricks. You command their p.a.w.ns. Yet you stand in the sun." "p.a.w.ns?"

Ms. Arkan pointed. The Changs had marks like bug bites on their throats. Like Tarika's.

Ms. Arkan caught Cat's glance and asked Tarika, "Who bit you?" Cat said, "Later. We should go." Ms. Arkan said, "What are you, Catalina Medianoche?" Cat shrugged, thinking, Good question.

Ilya said, "She's in the sun. She talks instead of attacking--"

"The nighters of Prague were rabid dogs, but a cunning wolf makes you think it's a pet." Ms. Arkan glanced at Cat. "A puppy."

Cat said, "I'm trying to save--"

The bas.e.m.e.nt door opened a crack, then completely. The sunlight from the back door fell a foot short of its sill. Baldomero studied them from the safety of the shadows.

Ms. Arkan s.n.a.t.c.hed the bolt pistol from Tarika and spun toward him. As her finger tightened on the trigger, he said casually, "Drop it."

She winced. The pistol twitched in her hand. "Fu--" "Now." The pistol fell. As Ilya stooped for it, Zoraida's voice came from behind Baldomero, "Stop there." Ilya froze as if he was playing a game of statues. Cat said, "Let them go. Please." Baldomero said, "They'll only kill more of us. You--" Zoraida stepped up beside him, putting a hand on his arm.

"Baldomero. She's young." He shook his head. "Do you know how many I killed when I was born into the night?" Zoraida said patiently, "Seven." "And Granny Lupe was slain by that beast--" Baldomero pointed at Ms. Arkan. "How many did Lupe kill on the night she became herself?" "Twenty-three." "Yes! We're born in blood!"

"You wanted me to learn control!" Cat said. "I did! Without killing anyone!"

"Then you only learned half the lesson. The rest is killing with perfect control." He pointed at Tarika, Ilya, and Ms. Arkan. "Which of them would you like?"

"I don't need to kill!" Zoraida said, "Let Tarika go. Who would believe her?" "Any of the Five Clans." "That doesn't matter. We can't stay here." "True." Baldomero glanced at the Changs. "Dress. Prepare the van.

We leave immediately." "Yes, sir," Mrs. Chang said, and they hurried away. Cat said, "I thought--" "Quiet." Baldomero's glamour closed her lips tighter than a gag. She fought it, hating him for taking her freedom so casually. But she could only open her mouth if she did not try to speak. She looked at Tarika, then Ilya and Ms. Arkan, then thought of all the people in the world who did not know about nighters. Did three lives depend on her, or did millions?

Baldomero said, "Alexandra Arkan. How did you find us?" "Fu--" "You can't fight me. Answer." "A tracer."

"Where?" "On the motorcycle." "Who came with you?" "Erzsebet, Mihaly. Istvan." "Will they go if you order it?" Ms. Arkan shook her head. "Tell them to come in." "Ilya and I've been here too long. They've already gone." "Where?" "To Casa Medianoche." "Why?" "To report. To make a new plan." "How soon could they return?" "Fu--" "How soon!" "Two hours. Or less, if the clans agree quickly." Baldomero looked at Zoraida. "What do you think?" "Let the children go." "You grew soft living with that man." "What do we lose? Cat mastered the frenzy. You know what it means to be fond of lesser creatures."

"No one should expect kindness from me."

Zoraida smiled. "But they can receive it from you, nephew. I've seen you choose kindness."

He shrugged and turned to Cat. "Sorry, Miracle. She's right. If I hadn't been so mad at the thought these killers would escape--" He turned to Tarika. "Go to the professor if you want to be believed. Go to the police if you don't. Go home and tell no one if you want to be safe. Now, go!"

Tarika looked at Cat. "Should--"

Cat hugged her. She tried to tell Tarika how much she loved her, but Baldomero's last command still bound her. She looked at him and pointed at her mouth.

He nodded. "Cat. Be free of all I've commanded."

She wanted to scream and tell him to never put limits on anyone again. She saw Ilya, crouching awkwardly, only able to show his fear with his eyes, and Tarika, waiting for her instead of running to safety. She made herself say, "Thanks, Baldomero," and pushed Tarika toward the door. "Luck, Tee."

"Luck, Cat." Tarika whirled and ran into the alley. Listening to her footsteps, Cat thought, One safe. She looked at Ilya and his mother. Two to go.

Baldomero said, "Close the door." "Let the Arkans go. If we're leaving--" "That's among the things we'll discuss. Close the door." Cat hesitated, warm in the early morning sunlight, then shut the door.

"You are a miracle," Baldomero said. "You didn't kill your friend." Cat nodded. "I didn't start with her." "Who, then? I commanded--" "You said, 'no person.'"

"If not a person--" "I went through the fridge. Soy milk helps." He stared in amazement and disgust. "You drank their swill?" "Yes! To keep from killing." He shook his head. "You cheated. Cleverly, but--" Zoraida said, "You saw. She fed and didn't kill. That's the point." "No!" Baldomero shouted. As Zoraida's eyes narrowed, he said more quietly, "We learn control so we can be just like them. We learn to kill from choice, not need." He pointed at Ms. Arkan. "Come here."

"Mother!" Ilya gasped as Ms. Arkan lurched forward, glaring at Baldomero.

Zoraida asked Baldomero, "What do you think you're doing?"

Baldomero shook his head. Cat heard his glamour as he told Zoraida, "Keep the boy quiet." Zoraida stared at Ilya, and Ilya grew still.

Baldomero smiled at Ms. Arkan. "You must have dreamed of this day. Did you quiver when you thought of your last kiss?"

Zoraida said, "Why toy with her?"

"Did Ysabel die mercifully? Did Lupe? Shouldn't they suffer as we do?"

"Baldomero!" Cat said. "Please--" "Don't feel left out, Miracle. You'll feed, too." "If you let her go, they'll know they're wrong about us." "They'll only know they can fool us. Some problems can only be eliminated." He pointed at Ilya. "Drink from him. Learn the second half of your lesson."

Cat shook her head.

Baldomero glanced at Ms. Arkan. "How many of our kind have you killed?"

She sneered. "At least one too few." "How many!" Her face calmed as his glamour took hold. "Forty-seven confirmed." "And suspected?" "A hundred, maybe two." "Why don't you know?" "No one wanted to dig through a village's ashes." Baldomero looked at Cat to be sure she had heard, then turned to Ilya. "How many have you killed, boy?" Ilya said numbly, "In Prague, three. In Budapest, one. In Paris, maybe one that fell in the Seine." Baldomero looked back at Cat. "You hear? When we call it war, we use the word that fits best." He jerked his chin toward Ilya. "War always has spoils for the victors. Drink, Catalina."

She shook her head. "Even in your squeamishness, you're as willful as any of us. Drink!" With his command, she snapped her head toward Ilya. His gaze darted about the room, but his body stayed still. As she stepped forward, Cat said, "Baldomero! Make me do this, and I'll hate you. Totally hate you."